The First Christmas
by Danielle Elenauial
Summary: HARRYxRON slash. A first time, romance, fluff, postwar Christmas fic. Written for the Bestmates Christmas exchange on livejournal. Written before the release of DH! So AU after HBP!


The day Voldemort finally fell, the first snowfall of winter settled itself on the rooftops of London. One Harry Potter, now a savior to the world's wizarding community, turned his green eyes skyward and for a minute, remembered life before the war.

For over a year, Harry, Ron and Hermione had been tracking down Voldemort's horcruxes. Harry's seventeenth and eighteenth birthday had come and gone during a time when all comforts and joys had been forgotten. There was always a constant fear that the Dark Lord would catch on to their actions, so their mission was carried out in the outmost of secrecy. For nearly fourteen months, Harry, Hermione and Ron had almost no contact with any other human beings. Isolation from the world was rough; days were spent sleeping in caves and scavenging for food. Nights were spent traveling under the cover of darkness, trekking through forests to avoid main roads. The warmth of a bed indoors and the taste of a home-cooked meal had long become distant memories.

When all four of the remaining horcruxes had been destroyed, Harry, Ron and Hermione joined their friends and Ron's family at the battlefront of a brewing war. A wizard army had been assembled to defeat Voldemort's forces of dark creatures and Death Eaters. What would have been a joyful reunion was cut short, for battle erupted quickly once the Dark Lord received word that Harry Potter had come.

Three months the war waged on, with many casualties on both sides. Ron and Hermione were off fighting the forces of evil, while Harry was forced to stay behind. His fellow wizards wanted to keep him safe as their most powerful weapon against Voldemort so Harry spent his time in St. Mungo's helping care for the wounded wizards and witches. Every day, Harry scanned the faces of the new arrivals in fear he would see Ron or Hermione lying there, in a hospital bed. For Harry, this was the worst time of all. At least when searching for the horcruxes, he had been with his best friends but now, he had no idea where they were or how they were doing. For the most part though, his duty in the hospital took his mind off his worries; there was always something to be done. Harry was busy from early in the morning until late at night every day and always went to be exhausted. Harry became very consumed in his work and it was sooner than he had expected that the day came when he was summoned to join the war.

Harry's fight with Voldemort passed in a blur. He had been preparing for this moment for so long, he was almost unafraid of his fate as he walked into the final battle. Weakened by the loss of his horcruxes, Voldemort was not the impressive foe that he had been in the past. Harry Potter, at eighteen years old and armed with only a wand at his side, vanquished the most evil wizard of all time.

After their lord fell, Voldemort's followers lost their motivation to fight. Many turned and ran, while others stared in disbelief at the Boy Who, once again, Lived. It was then that the first snowflakes began to fall, landing on the faces of the dead and the survivors.

Harry Potter turned his face to the heavens, and as the snow drifted downwards, he remembered Christmas at Hogwarts. It had always been his favorite time of year, when most of the students had left for home, and he, Ron and Hermione had the Gryffindor common room all to themselves. With his two best friends, Harry felt like he hadn't missed out on anything growing up, because they were all the family he needed.

It had been so long since Harry had thought about Christmas; about decorations, holiday feasts and presents. He realized now that the holiday was probably approaching and that this year, he would be able to join in the celebrations. There would be so much more to be joyous about this year; the first Christmas in so many years without the lingering threat of Voldemort.

XXXXX

After the questions and the publicity, after the celebrations and the mourning, life for Harry, Ron and Hermione was slowly returning to normal. All three of them, because of their bravery in the war, and their destruction of the horcruxes, were viewed as great heroes in the wizarding world. Every reporter wanted to talk to them, every wizard or witch wanted to meet them, and the Ministry of Magic was dying to employ them. At first, Ron loved the attention, and was so excited to have made his family so proud but after a while in the spotlight, he grew as weary of the constant exposure as his two best friends.

Each of them had decided that they weren't ready to start a career yet, so soon after the end of the war. They were all just trying to find themselves again, and evaluate their lives after all the changes they had been through in the last year and a half. So Harry, Ron and Hermione had decided that the three of them would share a flat in the muggle area of London for a short time, to get away from the attention and the pressures of being heroes in the wizarding world.

As their lives settled down, Harry was happier than he had been in years. The looming threat of Voldemort had been hanging over his head for so long; he had not realized the weight of the burden he had been carrying. But now that it was lifted off his shoulders, he felt so incredibly elated and free. Harry also loved the small flat he shared with his best friends; he loved spending time with Ron and Hermione, even if they were just sitting around with mugs of hot chocolate and reading their respective sections of the morning post. Living a muggle lifestyle was easy for him and Hermione, but Ron had more difficulty. Harry loved trying to teach Ron to cook without magic, though more often than not, the end result was not eatable. Harry even loved it when Hermione would look after them like a mother, making sure he and Ron kept their rooms clean, and did their share of washing dishes.

Harry felt like he had everything he needed in that flat; Hermione who was the caring, responsible big sister he had never had and Ron….Ron who was his everything.

As much as Harry cared for Hermione, Ron would always be his first and closest friend. And over the years, Harry had come to realize how much Ron really meant to him; how much he loved Ron and how lost he would be without him. Harry couldn't tell exactly when it was that his love for Ron had deepened from a strong love between friends to loving him in every way his heart possibly could. There was no precise moment when Harry discovered that he was in love with his best friend, it came to him slowly as he understood how devastated he would be if he ever lost Ron. Some days, Harry just wanted to hold Ron close and shield him from all the evil in the world. It was that desire to embrace Ron and never let go that made Harry start to believe that his feelings for Ron went beyond those of normal friendship. Over time, Harry knew that he loved Ron with all his heart.

Harry had always been afraid to tell Ron how he felt though. The pressure of knowing he had to face down Voldemort made Harry feel isolated and alone. He was scared of starting an intimate relationship, because he felt he couldn't open up and truly share himself with someone. Harry took the burden of an impending battle with Voldemort as a burden on himself alone and didn't want to force anyone else to share in his troubles.

But now…now that Voldemort was gone for good, and Harry was freed of the weight he had been carrying, things were different. Harry felt ready to open up and give himself completely to someone. Harry wanted to share everything with Ron, that is, if Ron felt the same way.

Harry was unsure how to approach the topic with Ron, but with Christmas so fast approaching, there was no time to sit and ponder. There was the shopping to be done, and Hermione had enlisted both his and Ron's help to decorate their flat in the traditional muggle fashion, with a Christmas tree and all. As much as Harry wanted to talk to Ron, he wanted to moment to be perfect and it seemed his confession would have to wait.

XXXXX

Shopping in wizard stores this Christmas season was a nightmare for Harry. Everywhere he went there was merchandise with his name or face on it. Stores had pictures and posters, toys and games, candy, and even a Harry Potter breakfast cereal. Posters in the window of Quality Quiddich Supplies advertised the new broomstick that would be available in spring; The Chosen One. Needless to say, Harry felt annoyed, overwhelmed and even a little embarrassed. He was often recognized while he was out as well, until he began avoiding making eye contact and hustling through stores as fast as possible.

On one such occasion, Harry was trying to get out of a shop as quickly as possible, once he noticed other customers start to point and whisper, when in his hurry, he knocked a stack of postcards off a display table. As much as he dreaded the handshakes and autographs he was probably going to be facing in a moment, Harry felt to guilty to leave the store without picking up his mess. So Harry bent down and began to collect the postcards off of the floor. It so happened though, that the pile that had fallen to the ground were postcards with pictures of Harry Potter himself on them. Rolling his eyes, he didn't stop picking them up, but glanced rather angrily at the pictures on each one. They weren't like ordinary wizard photographs; they moved for only about ten seconds, and then stopped, and the motion was repeated over again. Harry guessed it was so a specific message could be conveyed when mailing the postcard, versus sending a picture and having no idea what it would look like when the recipient saw at it.

Most of the pictures were of him in the spotlight of cameras, giving a shy smile, a wave, or something of that nature. But then there was one postcard that caught Harry's eye; it was the only one where the picture was not of him alone. Instead, he was standing in between Ron and Hermione. Harry smiled to see the picture of his friends, and paused to look at it closer. Hermione was talking animatedly, to some unseen reporter, gesturing rapidly with her hands. Ron was talking as well, more calmly, but there was a smile on his face, and a sparkle in his eyes that indicated he was very happy about whatever he was discussing. Harry looked at himself in the picture, trying to figure out when this had been taken. The postcard Harry was standing there, between his best friends, completely silent. He was resting on hand casually on Ron's shoulder, and was turned toward him, as though listening to him talk. It was an ordinary moment, but the expression on Harry's photographed face caught his attention. Harry was looking at Ron, as he talked, his eyes staring, fixated. All his attention was focused completely on Ron, and his eyes shone with devotion. His expression, even in such a small photograph, was as clear as daylight; Ron was his everything.

Harry kept staring at the postcard in his hands. All this time, he had been looking for the perfect words, when he had been saying it with his eyes all along. Harry held the card tightly in his hands, and began to walk quickly to the register. He had to show Ron.

XXXXX

After an awkward encounter with the store clerk, who asked Harry if anyone ever told him he looked a lot like Harry Potter, Harry hurried out into the night and back to his flat. As Harry entered the front door, he could hear someone speaking.

"Vol-….Vold-…Volde-….Voldemort! Volde-….Voldemort!"

Harry walked into his living room to see one Ronald Weasley sitting on the couch with a forceful look of concentration on his face.

Perplexed, he asked, "Ron, what on Earth are you doing?"

Ron looked up, not having noticed Harry in the room before, and turned a deep shade of crimson. "I…umm….nothing?"

Harry chuckled to himself. "You were saying Voldemort."

Ron stared down at his shoes. Intensely. "Well, you see….it's just….well…you know…"

Sitting down on the couch next to him, Harry prompted, "Yes?"

"Well, since…You-Know-Who, I mean…_Voldemort _has been dead, everyone has been saying his name again….but it's hard…you know Harry? So I was practicing saying his name and not being afraid." Ron looked up at Harry sheepishly. "Rather silly, I know."

Harry smiled. It was moments like this where he fell in love all over again. "No Ron, that's not silly at all."

Ron looked up bashfully. "Thanks Harry."

It was the perfect moment for their talk; Hermione was at her parent's home for the weekend and Harry was still holding the postcard in his hands. He only needed to work up the courage. Taking a deep breath, he started. "Ron….Ron, there's something I'd like to show you."

Seemingly unaware of Harry's nervous state, Ron leaned back comfortably on the couch. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"It's this," Harry replied quickly and handed his best friend the postcard.

Ron glanced at it briefly, before turning back to Harry. Puzzled, he asked, "It's just a postcard….with you, me and Hermione on it…."

Harry was flustered. "I…I know Ron. Just look at it. Please? Look at it closely."

Ron still looked befuddled, but he didn't say anything, he just furrowed his brow and looked closely at the picture.

Harry watched the range of emotions pass over Ron's face. His intense look of concentration, morphed to one of realization before turning into an expression of confusion and mild shock.

"Harry…you're…well, you're _looking _at me."

Harry nodded slowly in response.

"But you're LOOKING at me Harry. You're looking at me like…well, like my father looks at my mum."

"Yes, yes I am Ron." Harry admitted. "That's what I wanted to show you."

More than anything, Ron seemed flabbergasted. "But WHY?"

This was the hard part for Harry. "I'm looking at you like that, because that's how I feel about you Ron. I didn't know how to tell you…."

"You feel what about me, Harry? Just tell me, please." Ron looked so confused, and almost hurt.

"Ron….I love you," Harry confessed shyly, barely able to meet his friends eyes as he said the words.

Ron blinked in shock. "Harry? You what? But you can't be serious…it's me…I mean, everyone loves you Harry….but I'm…well…."

"No, Ron, I do mean it," Harry interrupted. "I love you. It probably started that first day we met on the train. You're the best friend I have, the best friend I could ever ask for, Ron. I could have never gotten here if it wasn't for you. And I understand if you don't feel the same way, I really do. I've just been keeping it a secret for so long, and now that Voldemort's gone, and we're safe, I thought I'd tell you…"

There were tears shining in the corners of Ron's eyes. "Of course I love you, Harry."

"You do?" Harry was so happy; this was more than he had ever hoped for.

Ron looked him deeply in the eyes. "Yes, I've loved you for a long time."

The two men looked at each other nervously. Harry's heart was beating so fast. With so many years spent worrying about saving Hogwarts or the world from the latest evil threat, he had very little time to experiment with his sexuality. He was so anxious, as for the very first time, he leaned forward to kiss Ron.

Their first kiss was delicate and innocent, as though they were adolescents again, unsure of how to express the explosion of unfamiliar feelings inside themselves. The next few kisses that followed were just as soft, in experimentation, testing the boundaries of these newly explored emotions. The tension of years of sexual repression between the two men was so thick it almost hung in the air. Harry kept gently pressing his lips on Ron's, with each kiss happier he became than he had ever been in his life, yet still wanting so much more. It was when a lustful whimper escaped the red-head's mouth that Harry realized how much he needed his best friend.

Sliding his hands up Ron's face, and tangling them in his hair, Harry took control of this kiss, as he became so desperate, so needy, plunging his tongue into Ron's mouth, anything to touch him more. Never before had ever nerve in his body tingled with such primal longing. Without breaking their kiss, Harry climbed on top of Ron, straddling his hips, and slowly lowered Ron onto his back on the couch. As they moved, growing erections brushed oh-so-briefly against each other, and both men let out throaty moans. Harry was in heaven as he pressed the full length of his body down on top of Ron's. He gently rocked his hips, causing their cocks to rub up against each other. The sensation was the most incredible thing Harry had ever felt in his life; he tore his lips away from Ron's to let out a deep, guttural moan.

Ron reached his hands around Harry's back, clinging desperately to his shirt, and he whimpered, "Oh more…please…Harry…oh, faster Harry…"

The need in his best friend's voice was pushing Harry over the top. He began to grind his groin faster and with more urgency, delighting in the feeling of the friction between his body and the man he loved.

The couch began to move slowly across the floor, but both men were too overwhelmed with pleasure to notice. Harry and Ron both had their heads thrown back and were whimpering and groaning.

There was so much passion in the moment that Harry was quickly becoming overwhelmed with sensation. "Oh, Ron…I'm going to come…" he panted.

Ron was still franticly clawing Harry's back as he writhed in pleasure. "Do it…do it for me, Harry."

With a few more thrusts of his hips, Harry came, with Ron following shortly after and both men collapsed on the couch, breathing heavily.

Harry brushed the sweat of his forehead and looked his best friend, now lover, in the eyes. "Ron, that was amazing. I love you."

Ron smiled back. "I love you too Harry."

They cuddled close to each other on the couch, arms and legs intertwined, content just to lie there in their newfound happiness.

After many minutes of content silence, Ron spoke up. "Harry, I still haven't bought you a Christmas present."

Harry chuckled softly. "That's okay Ron. This is the best Christmas present I could ever ask for."

XXXXX

Years later, Harry would still remember that Christmas. He would still recall that first Christmas morning that he woke up in the same bed as Ron. (Oh, those little things that felt so right.) It was the only Christmas while he, Ron and Hermione all still lived together in that little London flat, before he and Ron got their own place and before Hermione went on to become the Minister of Magic. Before Ron became a world famous Quiddich player and Harry an Auror. Before Bill and Fleur came over with half dozen part Veela part Weasley children every Christmas. Before Ron and Harry coming out to Arthur and Molly inspired Percy to make his own confession, and Oliver joined them for the holidays from then on. Before Ginny and Neville finally got married and had three of the most adorable red-headed daughters of their own. Despite so much time passing, and so many changes, Harry still remembered that Christmas.

It was the first Christmas without Voldemort and his first Christmas with Ron.


End file.
